


Love February

by redskiez



Category: Naruto
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, But I can't really stop because I always say Obito is Tobi, Chinese New Year, Do I smell a sequel to this?, Even though in the fic I say Obito most of the time when he's thinking, Happy Birthday, M/M, Maybe I should stop tagging Tobi when it's obvious he's considered a completely different character, TobiDei - Freeform, Valentine's Day, and it is suddenly a three-part story, and then there is a sudden rating change, obidei, oh well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-16 13:49:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13637541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redskiez/pseuds/redskiez
Summary: He knows he should be ordering something to eat, or at least pretend to eat since Deidara has long since given up on spying on him, but for some reason, he cannot seem to slip into character today as smoothly as he does any other day.





	1. Chapter 1

Usually, Tobi would be the first one of the two to suggest to lay back and slack off for as long as they can, which was what made it so much of a surprise when it was instead Deidara who pointed out the teahouse in the distance and suggested to take a rest before they hike the rest of the way up the mountain.

Obito didn’t complain. He has no reason to, considering he has a role to play and that role would never give up a chance to kick back and relax. So he sits now, elbows resting on the cheap wooden table as Deidara enjoys a plate — or two — of bakudan-yaki.

He knows he should be ordering something to eat, or at least pretend to eat since Deidara has long since given up on spying on him, but for some reason, he cannot seem to slip into character today as smoothly as he does any other day.

Deidara doesn’t seem to be sensing anything is amiss. He simply sits and enjoys his giant snack, chewing slowly. It’s slightly mesmerizing watching the way his jaw works. It reminds Obito of the way his hand-mouths would while not in battle, carefully chew the clay as Deidara experiments with different levels of chakra infusion.

Obito blinks at himself at the train of his own thoughts. It is only recently that he has found his thoughts rotating around his partner when he isn’t planning his next move for Pain to enact. There’s just something about that fiery, feisty blonde that makes every moment a surprise for him.

It feels a lot more refreshing than just following an age-old plan that has already been roughly mapped out before his involvement.

Maybe it’s when a lot of Deidara’s tactics is just to wing it in the heat of battle, or the fact that it actually _works_.

Then again, Obito does have to take in the factor that a lot of Deidara’s plans are just to brute force his way into victory, without much finesse at all.

His tea goes cold in his hands, untouched.

It is then that Deidara looks up at him, eyes already suspiciously narrowed.

“I think I have you figured out, hm,” he says simply, out of the blue and completely confident. Obito blinks at the suddenness of his statement and tilts his head a fraction to the right, eager to remain in character.

“What does senpai mean?”

He thinks maybe if he plays dumb, Deidara wouldn’t say anything else.

He thinks wrong.

“Only one type of person in the world wants to wear a mask and insists on hiding their own identity, yeah,” Deidara says between a mouthful of bakudan-yaki, waving a stick around in the air. “That person is either dead to the world, or dead inside.”

Deidara does not give Obito a chance to raise a question because he continues on. “You’re still chipper and eager to go, which means you still have a purpose left in this world. Whether that is just to be an idiot all day, or something else entirely, doesn’t really matter as long as it keeps you going, yeah, so who are you hiding from? I want to know, hm.”

Obito furrows his eyebrows and sits uncomfortably in his chair, shifting his weight left and right. He didn’t expect to be interrogated today, especially not by his hotheaded partner who has almost never expressed the ability to see anything beyond the horizon. His eyes dart everywhere, trying to find something to look at that isn’t Deidara. Even though Deidara would have no way of seeing it, he seems to sense it and scoffs.

“What is today, hm?”

Obito is startled once more, eyes attracted back to Deidara. He turns his head in confusion as he echoes his partner, “what is today?”

“Today is special, hm,” Deidara says in a matter-of-factly tone once more. “You’re quiet. You’re thinking, yeah. So today is something from your past.”

If Obito could describe Deidara in one word, he would choose ‘dense,’ or any other word that is its synonym, but at this moment, he cannot say that the boy is dull. Perhaps he should stop underestimating his partner, even though Tobi holds his senpai in such high esteem.

“Today is nothing,” Tobi shrugs his shoulders, letting go of his cup of tea. There’s no use drinking it now.

“You said something like this before, yeah,” Deidara says. “The first day we trained together, I asked about you and you said you’re no one, hm.”

Obito is surprised Deidara even remembers this. “And?” Tobi asks, his chipper tone beginning to crack as he tires of the conversation quickly.

“Today reminds you of when you were someone, hm,” Deidara deduces, smirking to himself. Obito doesn’t like that he seems so proud at his detective skills and couldn’t help but let out a harsh breath through his nose. Deidara catches the soft sound rather keenly, latching onto it and glaring daggers at his masked partner. Obito feels as though Deidara is going to dig the knife deeper into his open wound.

“Today is your birthday, yeah.”

No, he’s managed to dig deeper and twist it at the same time.

The heavy feeling in his chest grows even heavier after Deidara gives it a name.

Tobi grows silent and finds the soft rippling of the tea immensely interesting. He doesn’t know what Deidara is doing, but there is a soft shuffling and then there is a solid presence next to him, brushing up against his shoulder in an almost intimate manner.

“I just wanted to say happy birthday, hm,” Deidara murmurs, sounding as though he’s approaching an injured and startled deer. He leans in closer ever so slightly, applying his weight on Obito more and more.

Obito does not lean away. “How did you know?” he asks instead, as though he is really interested in understanding the inner thought process of Deidara’s earlier intelligent verbal deduction.

“I asked Zetsu, hm,” Deidara admitted. “You were extra quiet when February rolled around.”

“Zetsu doesn’t know,” Obito shoots back.

“It wasn’t hard to guess,” Deidara defends himself, sounding harsh but then softens his tone once more. “Zetsu says it happens every February.”

Obito scoffs once more. Betrayed by his own subconscious actions. “Well, you’ve had your fun, senpai,” Obito says, “I guess I should ask for a present n—”

He cuts himself off when he realizes Deidara hasn’t stopped _leaning in_. His eye widens at their proximity and in instinct, he almost leans back to get some space between them, but Deidara’s hand is suddenly at the back of his head and he cannot move away. The next three seconds of his life may perhaps be the longest as he watches, as though in slow motion, Deidara lean toward him.

He doesn’t feel his lips as he plants a soft kiss on where his cheek would be if his mask isn’t in the way, but he imagines that they would be soft and he thinks that it's sadder that he did not get to feel them than never having anyone know it’s his birthday. He blinks again when Deidara pulls away.

Suddenly, he doesn’t think it’s a bad idea to actually start celebrating his birthday again.

“Happy birthday?” Deidara tries.

Tobi lets out a bark of a laugh. “It’s my birthday,” he confirms. “Was that my birthday present, or did you always want to do that and it’s more a present for you instead?”

Seeing Deidara turn red is truly a sight to behold. Even though Deidara tries to be cool or whatever façade he thinks criminals should have, it’s very obvious that he’s just a book waiting to be read. It might take some time to open his pages, but everything is revealed to you once you manage to do it. But all this time, as he’s reading Deidara, he doesn’t even know he’s being read in return.

“Happy birthday to me,” Tobi sing-songs, reaching up and pushing his mask to the side. He doesn’t need to see with his eyes to know that Deidara is stunned — after trying to sneak so many glances in ludicrous ways, what he’s always wanted to know is now right here in front of him. Too bad he doesn’t get too long to admire it as Obito leans down not a moment later, their lips connecting in a chaste kiss.

A soft, delicate brush against, as he suspected, very soft lips. He could taste the bakudan-yaki lingering in Deidara’s lips and as he laps it, he is granted access into the rest of Deidara’s mouth. However, he pulls back before things can get out of hand, poking his tongue out to lick at his lips, savoring the last of the kiss.

He moves his mask back and is pleased to find Deidara looking as dazed as he feels. He reaches up and taps against Deidara’s forehead protector, the vibrations snapping Deidara back to reality. “Let’s get going now, shall we, senpai?” he asks in a soft tone.

“Uh,” Deidara utters a sound of confirmation. “Happy birthday, yeah,” he says dumbly, a moment later.

Obito breathes out a laugh. “It’s my birthday, don’t wear it out,” he says as he stands up, tossing a few coins onto the table to cover the cost of free tea and two — no, three — plates of bakudan-yaki. He waves at Deidara, who is still staring dumbly at his mask.

“Come on, Deidara, let’s go,” he says after a heartbeat of admiring the delicate features on his young face.

Deidara blinks and stands, tossing the stick back onto the table and continues to walk toward him without caring if it clatters onto the ground. Once Deidara reaches his side, he turns and the two of them leaves the teahouse as the owner calls out her thanks after them.

If anyone sees them walking out hand in hand, it’s probably because they have eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprisingly, it's very hard to write nowadays. I'm always tired even though I didn't really do anything. What's even more damning is that I've phrased this sentence almost five times by now.
> 
> That being said, I have also rewritten this fic three times. If I'm not 100% pleased with it, or if there are things that seem out of place, or doesn't make sense, it should be self-evident (also, remnants of its past reincarnations).
> 
> Also, I know I am one day late. As I said, I've rewritten this multiple times. If I haven't, I might be able to make it in time. Oh well, whatever, right? Happy birthday, Uchiha Obito, you piece of shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since his birthday, Deidara has been distant.

Ever since his birthday, Deidara has been distant.

By distant, Obito means that Deidara always seems to be thinking about something else, even if he’s right there next to him. He won’t go narcissistic and say that his partner should always think about him, but after the episode they had in the teahouse, it feels like Deidara is attached to his hip.

And it’s utterly distracting if your other half always feels like he’s never there.

Obito wonders, as he watches Deidara now in their shared inn room, if he acted the exact same when the beginning of February came. He wonders, as Deidara molds his clay, if Deidara felt the exact same things he’s feeling.

He stops absentmindedly playing with a kunai and leaves it to clatter loudly on the table. Deidara doesn’t seem to notice. He crawls away from the table and moves toward his partner.

Deidara doesn’t move at all, seemingly completely absorbed in his molding. Obito wouldn’t be surprised if Deidara has gone deep in the zone, like he has in the past, in separate instances, but this time it’s different. His hands move much more carefully, digging his nails into the white clay and carving patterns that are unfamiliar, it would explain his hesitant movements which contradicts his usual bold strokes.

It makes him curious. He’s obviously trying something new, which makes him wonder if he’s trying a new design. Obito thinks it makes sense. An artist always has to try something new, right? He’s sure that a lot of Deidara’s sculptures didn’t look like it does now the moment he picked up some clay.

He sits down next to Deidara, drawing up one leg to plant his foot down firmly on the ground, resting his arm on his knee. Still, even with him sitting in such close proximity, Deidara does not notice.

Obito would be concerned if he doesn’t know that there is certainly something on Deidara’s mind.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he says, catching Deidara’s attention. He’s so startled that he jumps and Obito barely has time to reach out to steady him before he speaks up again. “What’s wrong?”

The pure shock on Deidara’s face gives him pause, but he doesn’t let that stop him from questioning him further. “Is something the matter?” he asks firmly.

Deidara seems to blink out of his reverie then, turning down to stare at the clay in his hands and then moves quickly to cover up the sculpture. “No, hm,” he says quickly, body tensing beside Obito’s.

He’s not telling the truth.

Obito narrows his eyes and reaches out to gently take Deidara’s hands into his own. “What’s wrong?” he presses.

Deidara seems to relent for a moment and Obito considers using his Sharingan to — only — soothe his nerves, but he seems to manage that on his own when he lets out a breath and opens his mouth.

“I don’t know what you like, yeah,” he says.

Obito tilts his head. What?

“What?” he echoes his own thoughts, curious as to why Deidara is interested in confusing him with one-liners since the tenth.

“Ah,” Deidara blinks, moving his hands away. “I mean, I didn’t really give you a proper birthday present.”

Obito feels his mouth press into a thin line, a bemused smile as he watches Deidara fondly. “You don’t need to give me a gift, senpai,” he says, reaching out to run his gloved hand through Deidara’s long, blonde hair. “If you’re as observant as you claim to be, you’ll know I’ve no need for things like that.”

“It’s tradition, yeah,” Deidara grunts out, but he doesn’t move away from Tobi, accepting his touch.

Obito couldn’t help but become even fonder. “Then just give me what you have,” he says, reaching out with his other hand. “If it’s your work, I would love it regardless.”

Deidara seems to consider this as he remains quiet, staring down at the white bit of clay that’s hidden within his palms. Obito follows his gaze, reaching out slowly. Deidara allows him to take the clay from his hands.

He watches it closely, unsure what to think of it. The small sculpture settles neatly on his palm, looking smaller than it really is as its white body contrasts his black gloves. It stares, just like the rest of Deidara’s art, with lifeless, void eyes. However, unlike the rest of Deidara’s art, it seems to be made out of a special kind of clay that’s meant to last.

As he untangles his other hand from Deidara’s hand to stroke its body, he realizes that this isn’t just another generic bird that Deidara makes on a whim during battles. This is a special kind of bird of prey.

“It’s beautiful,” he tells Deidara, not looking away from the little bird.

“It’s far from perfect, yeah,” Deidara huffs.

“It’s perfect as it is,” Tobi says. “Did you spend the past four days doing this?”

Deidara looks away.

“That’s longer than you’d usually spend on your work,” Tobi teases. “I thought senpai’s work was all about the fleeting passage of time.”

“Shut up, hm,” Deidara grunts, reaching out to try and snatch the bird away from Obito’s palm. “You’ll not have it now.”

“Aw, you can’t say that today! That’s mean,” Tobi whines.

“What? What’s today, yeah?”

“Another dumb day,” Tobi sing-songs, setting the bird somewhere far away and leaning close to Deidara. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Deidara blinks. “Valentine’s Day,” he parrots, as though he doesn’t really understand the phrase. After two heartbeats, he blinks and then he blinks again, his eyes widening for a fraction.

“Valentine’s Day,” he says again, dumbly.

“Yes, senpai,” Tobi murmurs, reaching out to comb his hand through his hair once more. “Is there something wrong about that?”

“We don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, hm.”

“I didn’t celebrate my birthday.”

Obito doesn’t hear anything else from Deidara, neither does he sees, as he leans in and buries his masked face into Deidara’s sweet-smelling hair. He could even smell it through his mask. “But I do now,” he murmurs into his hair when Deidara remains quiet.

Deidara makes a sound that Obito couldn’t quite hear clearly and says, “you only started four days ago.”

“It isn’t too late to start celebrating Valentine’s Day.”

He reaches up and shoves his mask to the side, leaning down to press a gentle kiss on the end of Deidara’s neck and the beginning of his head. He could hear the gasp more clearly now and he grins, pressing kiss after kiss at differing spots.

He pulls back when he feels Deidara’s hands tug at his short hair.

“What do we do on Valentine’s Day, hm?”

“We celebrate.”

He reaches out and slides his hand past Deidara’s tank top, the material of his glove sliding smoothly against his mesh shirt underneath. He feels Deidara’s shiver through a series of ripples of his flesh and when he reaches his nipple, he delights to find it hard.

“Tell me one thing,” Deidara gasps when Obito presses a thumb against the nub, his fingers digging painfully into Obito’s scalp.

“Anything,” Obito whispers, leaning back down against Deidara’s neck now that he’s distracted.

“What’s your real name?”

Obito pauses but he doesn’t move. He remains where he is, face buried in Deidara’s neck and hand sprayed obscenely on his chest. He doesn’t move for a good few seconds and Deidara seems to be content with that, his breathing still labored and loud beside Obito’s ear.

He removes his hand that’s tangled in Deidara’s hair and grips Deidara’s side, pushing him down against the padded floor and he could feel Deidara’s legs spread to accommodate him as they both press against the ground. It’s more erotic now that he could feel all of Deidara pressing up against his chest.

Obito takes a deep breath once, then twice, then he moves his hand to grab hold of Deidara’s hips and he grinds down harshly.

Deidara moans in his ear and turns his head to the side, no doubt trying to catch Obito’s gaze. Obito grants him this and stares at him through the thin material of the band of his mask, seeing the outline of Deidara’s hair sprayed around his head, like a mess of golden ink spilled from its bottle.

He thinks it’s alright.

“Obito,” he leans forward and whispers against Deidara’s lips, grinding against him once more and Deidara swallows his name with a moan.

The tiny clay sculpture sits further away on the floor, toppled onto its side.

Obito reaches down and uses both hands to keep Deidara steady as he presses his entire body against his partner’s, pinning him to the ground. He does not remove himself as he continues to speak, licking Deidara’s lips to coax them apart.

“Uchiha Obito.”

This time, as the name falls into Deidara’s mouth, his gasp is no longer as pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Singles Awareness Day, boys.
> 
> My eyes are so tired and I don't even know if my brain is completely awake at this point. I didn't really do much today save for going to a seminar and a tutorial, but somehow I am very, very tired. If this doesn't make sense (what is with me and stories that don't make sense, nowadays? Is it my new brand?), then you'll know why.
> 
> Oh, and yeah, I did accidentally make this a three-parter story that's going to encompass all special days in February. How am I going to link this cliffhanger to the Year of the Dog? I don't know, but I have two days to figure it out. Wish me luck!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t talk about it until a week or more later.

They don’t talk about it until a week or more later.

On the hike back down the mountain to their base, they take a break at a nearby grove. It’s not necessary, but once again, it is suggested — or more so commanded by — Deidara. Obito has no reason to refuse, even though his partner knows by now that Tobi is not a real person.

Well, maybe he doesn’t know that much, but he definitely knows that Obito isn’t just Tobi.

Obito feels an uncomfortable clench in his chest. He doesn’t like lying to Deidara, now. Something has changed within him and he recalls vividly that this feeling had settled in his lungs just about ten days ago.

Something is very wrong with him. He feels as though he just caught a disease of some kind.

Obito leans against the rough bark of a tree, uncaring of the snacks that are laid out in front of him. His head knocks against the trunk as he stares up at the pale blue sky, watching the clouds gently float across the air and ride along the current of wind.

He almost forgets that Deidara is in front of him until the latter tosses a small rock at him. After creating a rather loud _twak_ , it ricochets off of his mask and lands in with a muffled sound onto the grassy floor.

Obito sighs through his nose and turns his gaze back from the sky, staring straight ahead.

Deidara is glaring at him.

He blinks at the sight and clears his throat, unsure what to do. Surely, Deidara wouldn’t catch his attention to just glare at him. He would definitely have something better to occupy his time with.

Obito tries to look away, but curiosity gets the better of him and he finds his gaze slowly fluttering back to his partner, his eye scanning for every single detail he could see.

Deidara crouched against another tree, holding a bamboo water container in one hand while his other rests on a knee. He isn’t doing much else but glaring, but Obito could tell he’s thinking up a storm.

Obito closes his eye, feebly hoping that this might make everything go away and have Deidara realize that now might not be a good time to do what he thinks he wants to do.

Unfortunately, luck isn’t on his side.

He lets out a choked noise when he feels a foot plant itself firmly against his chest and he cracks open his left eye to see what Deidara is up to. Just like he assumed, Deidara is looming over him, left foot raised and resting harshly on his chest. His gaze is ever so stony, fuming with the anger that Obito had no part in enticing, other than the sole fact that he comes from the same family as Itachi.

Obito grunts, planting both of his hands on the ground beside him to get a better purchase. He watches Deidara carefully, already mentally too weak to put up much of a staring contest, and is surprised when he sees Deidara’s resolve crack.

A little kink in his eye, a twitch of his lower lip, and then Deidara is letting him go. Much of the weight he puts on his left leg is shifted to his right until all Deidara is doing is merely lightly pinning Obito against the tree.

“So, you’re an Uchiha, hm?” Deidara says, sounding much less angry than he looks. Obito opts that it’s because Deidara has been practicing his ‘cool guy’ face for a long time.

“Yes,” Obito replies. “I thought we already established that.”

The look Deidara gives him and the sudden inability to take deep breaths suggest that sarcasm is not appreciated today. Obito gives him a small nod and both of them relents.

“Show me, then, yeah,” Deidara says, finally letting his foot fall back onto the ground. Obito blinks and once more questions whether or not Deidara is doing this on purpose.

“Show me,” Deidara repeats himself, crouching down to be at the same eye-level as Obito. He lifts up an arm and knocks on the hard material of his mask with his first knuckle. “Show me.”

As much as he’d love to continue to listen to Deidara’s voice, Obito doesn’t think he would be able to stand him parroting ‘show me’ for the next two hours, so he relents.

Something in his chest releases.

Obito reaches up and grips the bottom of his mask, watching Deidara closely as he does so. His partner is still staring intently at him, following his every movement. He’s probably staring at the way his hand tightens to get a firm grip on his mask, probably staring at the way he’s clenching his arm to pull it upwards.

He’s definitely staring at his now exposed face.

With bated breath, Obito gently puts the mask on the forest floor and waits for Deidara’s reaction.

It doesn’t come as explosive as he thought it would.

Deidara tilts his head and stares intently at his right side, even going as far as raising an arm to poke at his scars. Obito finds it all rather humiliating and dehumanizing like he is some sort of exotic animal at a petting zoo, but he sits through it all, accepting every curious touch without complaining,

He thinks he deserves at least this.

After a while, Deidara seems to be satisfied with his investigation. He even looks as though he is willing to let Obito go and they would put the past week behind them, but then Deidara pauses and his eyes narrow. Obito doesn’t even have to ask to know what caught his attention.

He feels Deidara’s fingertips touch his right eyebrow, probably assuming he’s blind (he’s partly right) in his left.

“Activate it, hm,” Deidara says. “I want to see it.”

“Are you sure?” Obito whispers, reaching up to gently wrap his fingers around Deidara’s wrist, feeling his body heat seeping through the thin fabric of his glove. He does not pull Deidara’s hand away.

Deidara seems to consider this, eyes softening for a moment as he regards Obito. Then his gaze hardens once more and he gives a nod. “Yes, I’m sure, hm,” he says, twisting his wrist in Obito’s relatively weak grasp and takes his hand.

Obito stares at their hands for a moment before interlacing their fingers together. So, this is how it is. Obito looks back up at Deidara and gives him a nod. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them again, he could hear Deidara let out a soft gasp and he could feel a hand resting on his shoulder.

He watches as Deidara leans forward and shuffle on his knees, clambering onto Obito’s lap and straddling him. He doesn’t pull his interlocked hand away, but he does grip his hand tighter as he examines his Sharingan.

“Do you have the Mangekyō, too, yeah?”

Their eyes meet and Obito nods.

“Show me it then, yeah,” Deidara says and Obito recognizes his tone as some sort of impatience. He wonders why that is. Doesn’t Deidara hate the Sharingan? Why is he so eager to see his?

Though he wishes to know more about Deidara’s apparent fascination with him, he supposes he shouldn’t keep him waiting, no matter his reason.

He maintains eye contact with him as he allows his Sharingan to shift to the Mangekyō, watching Deidara’s expression change as it swirls into place.

Deidara looks apprehensive at first, eyes trained on the new pattern that has settled on his iris. He could see his eyes move, almost like he’s studying it. His eyebrows pinch together ever so slightly and Obito wonders if that is fear that he saw flash behind his eyes for a brief second. But the expression is gone just as quick as it came, and then a look of awe washes over Deidara, with a hint of recognition just below the surface.

“Looks familiar, hm,” he mutters underneath his breath, as though he doesn’t expect Obito to hear it. He does, however, but doesn’t act on it. He knows he has fought Kakashi before, back when Sasori was still alive. It surprises Obito that Deidara somehow managed to remember the pattern of the Mangekyō in the split second it was used in the battle.

Perhaps he shouldn’t underestimate the depth Deidara is willing to go to in order to strengthen his ability to be immune or at least see through the prowess of the Uchiha’s eyes.

Obito doesn’t fight it when Deidara untangles their hands and brings his to cup the scarred part of his face, his thumb digging ever so gently into the artificial skin, just under his eye. Obito recognizes the look on his face as something akin to admiration.

“What can you do, yeah?” Deidara whispers after a while, leaning in just a little bit closer.

“Perhaps we should take this one step at a time,” Obito mutters back, reaching up to scoop his hand through Deidara’s hair, holding his head steady.

Deidara seems to consider this as he continues to stare. He seems to agree on it as the next time he speaks, it is a different topic.

“Can you teach me to defeat Itachi?”

Obito couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. “Maybe,” he says, gently massaging his fingers into the scalp of Deidara’s head, trying to calm him down even though his partner no longer seems angry at all. What strange creatures teenagers are. “He hates my guts.”

“Really?” Deidara quips in curiosity, no longer studying his eye but now expanded once more to studying his face.

“He doesn’t trust me,” Obito murmurs, sitting up just slightly and jostling the smaller man. Deidara grumbles at him and then suddenly remembers who he’s sitting on, and his expression hardens.

“Neither do I,” Deidara grunts, trying to pull away from Obito’s grasp, but he doesn’t relent his grip and keeps Deidara rooted in place. “Let me go, hm.”

“Listen to me,” Obito hisses through his teeth, leaning forward while simultaneously bringing Deidara’s head closer, his fingers tightening in a threatening manner. “I am not your enemy.”

“I don’t know who you are,” Deidara growls.

Obito scoffs. “I am Uchiha Obito,” he says, finding Deidara beginning to relax in his grip, contrary to every logical reason. “You allowed me to find myself again.”

Deidara is still trembling slightly in his embrace, but he does not seem to fight it when Obito brings their lips together, brushing them against each other ever so slightly. “Let’s spend these last days of the new year without hostility, hm?” Obito whispers against his lips before pressing them into a kiss.

He more so feels the humming agreement than hears it and Deidara’s arms reach around his head, wrapping themselves around his neck and hands finding purchase in his hair.

Ever since that night, they haven’t really been physically intimate. The reason behind it is obvious enough, with Deidara scrawling at him at any given moment just because he admitted he’s an Uchiha. It is like the whole three-tails situation again, except this time, Obito doesn’t bother with trying to make amends.

There is a certain look in Deidara’s eyes that tells him he doesn’t need to do anything else but wait. Deidara could have blown him up after they fucked, but he didn’t. He could have done so after they left the inn, but he didn’t. He doesn’t need to be sitting here now, on his lap, kissing him as though he is a starving man.

Deidara really likes him.

They break apart after a while and Obito trails his lips against Deidara’s cheek, breathing hot air against his ear when he reaches it. Deidara shivers against him. “What do I call you, hm?” he asks, burying his face closer to his neck.

“You can call me whatever you want,” Obito whispers into the shell of his ear before taking in an earlobe to nibble on.

“I’m serious, hm,” Deidara grunts, struggling slightly.

“‘Tobi’ if we’re around others,” Obito replies earnestly, letting go of his ear and press a kiss against his cheek. “‘Obito’ for anything else, if you want.”

Deidara pushes lightly against him and Obito obeys, leaning back against the tree as he watches Deidara’s face. He’s thinking. It’s as clear as day. He waits for Deidara to be done patiently, reaching back up again to play with his ridiculously long hair.

“Obito,” he hears him say, snapping him back to reality.

It’s been so long…

Deidara seems to delight in his expression.

“Obito,” Deidara says again, shifting forward so that he’s fully flush against his body.

“Deidara,” Obito responds, wrapping his other arm around his waist.

“I suppose this is alright, hm,” Deidara mutters as he rests his head on Obito’s chest. Obito only responds with a laugh, planting a gentle kiss on his golden head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of that.
> 
> Doesn't really make sense, does it? I don't know. If you think it makes sense, then hurray, you've done my job for me! I tried to link this to the Year of the Dog by having a dog come up in one scene and having it be the reason they make up, but that is just some next level bullshit that I am unwilling to dabble with. That is coming a lot when I had to write a piece about Jerry Cornelius for a module this week.
> 
> Anyway, I keep rewriting it before I even got it down in words, so if anything feels off... yeah. That's why. I'm also way too tired for someone who doesn't really do anything during the day, so there's also that.
> 
> I'm not quite as frantic over my tardiness as I am about the previous chapters of this fic. Chinese New Year's celebrations go beyond than just one day. Usually, celebrations last up to an entire week.
> 
> I would have finished this chapter earlier, but I was rather depressed that I didn't have anyone to celebrate Chinese New Year with. I usually celebrate it with my family, so it's just weird that I don't get to now. Sorry about that.
> 
> Thanks for reading and if you liked (or hated) it, please leave me a comment to let me know!


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